Page 20 of Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

Dotty, the receptionist, sat behind the large desk. Her thick glasses made her eyes appear bigger, and her silver hair was sprayed stiffly into place.

“Hey there, Eric! What can I do you for?” she asked.

“Hey, Dotty, I was just coming to look at your available dogs.”

Dotty’s face filled with sympathy. “Oh, honey. I’m afraid we don’t have any dogs right now.”

Well, if that wasn’t a sign for him not to adopt another dog, he didn’t know what was.

“That’s all right.” He started to leave, but she called him back.

She held out a piece of paper to him, and he took it, reading over the bold print and a picture of a small dog in a Santa hat. “Whiskers in Wonderland?”

“Yes, if you’re interested, the Twin Falls Animal Shelter is doing a free adoption event in a few weeks. Apparently, someone came in and paid every available animal’s adoption fee so they could get homes for Christmas.”

Eric didn’t care about the adoption fee. He’d willingly pay anything for the right dog.

“Thanks, I’ll keep this in mind.”

He left the shelter and headed to the bar. He might as well get started on inventory since he had nothing else going on today.

His cell beeped, and he checked the screen. It was a text message from Jim Heeler, editor for theRock Canyon Press.

Subscriptions are up. Nice work.

Eric grinned. When he’d first started writing for theRock Canyon Press, he’d done it as a joke. It had been a type of therapy for him, writing about all the goings-on at the bar and the other gossip he heard from drunk patrons. Jim had loved it, especially after the first week’s response nearly doubled sales.

Still, Eric had never thought in a million years that “Small Town Scandals” would take off the way that it had. Or that people would love to hate his alter ego, Miss Know-It-All.

After a year and half of writing the column, he was actually surprised no one had figured it out. People loved to point the finger at Gracie or Mrs. Andrews. They were obvious choices, always putting their noses is everyone else’s business.

No one ever suspected the big, burly bartender they told all their secrets to.

Which made the whole thing just about perfect.

He texted Jim a thumbs-up pic, and put his phone into the cup holder. He might as well head into work, even though it was supposed to be his day off.

It wasn’t as though he had anything to go home to.

* * *

“There is no freaking way!” Gracie hissed, staring down at the newspaper column. Pip was sitting on the floor of Gemma’s bedroom, playing with one of the toys Connie Henderson had given her, and Gemma was lying in bed, snacking on a plate of almonds, cheese, and strawberries Gracie had made her.

“What did she say this time?” Gemma asked.

Gracie held the paper up to her face. “How in the hell did sheknow? It just happened this morning!”

Gemma took the paper and read aloud. “‘Looks like bachelor number… Well, I’ve lost count. Needless to say, everyone’s favorite barista has kicked another man to the curb. It begs the question: is there something wrong with them or her?’”

Gracie took the paper back and crumpled it in her fist. “If I ever find out who she is, she better run fast and far.”

“Oh, come on! There’s nothing wrong with you. You just haven’t met the one yet.” Gemma glanced toward Pip on the ground and shot Gracie a meaningful glance. “So, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.” Gemma kept staring at her, and she shrugged. “She needed me, okay?”

Gemma took her hand and squeezed. “And that’s how I know there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Yeah, well…” Gracie looked around uncomfortably, searching for something else to talk about, when she spotted Gemma’s laptop. Gemma had been working on writing regency romances, but she had yet to finish one that Gracie knew about. “What are you working on? Handsome Hal’s turgid flesh?”

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